


All the Rest He Can Get

by Calacious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Guilt, M/M, Mentions of non-con, Minor Character Death, Prison Sex, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: James made a terrible mistake when he decided, against Lily's wishes, to drive home drunk after a party. He's paying for that mistake at Hogwarts Penitentiary. Prison!AU





	All the Rest He Can Get

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Prison!AU, set when James and Lily are young adults. tom Riddle is a murderer. James killed someone while drinking and driving. Sirius killed his parents. Written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy 365 prompts challenge, Running rate and Assignment #6 Psychology Task 7: Write a prison!au. I am counting this toward the 25,000 word goal that I set (which I will fall woefully short of) for the month. This story has 2037 words according to ff. net.
> 
> Warning: This is set in prison and has adult themes related to prison, including dubiously consensual sex (James does consent, but only under duress) though it does not go into any detail at all, there is a mention of rape and molestation, but there are no details at all. All sex is skipped entirely. There is also drug use, special K is another name for ketamine, and a suggestion of addiction to that drug.

"I heard you're the one to talk to about scoring some special K," James said.

He'd asked around the prison yard and everyone had pointed him toward Tom Riddle, a man rumored to have tortured and killed at least a dozen families before he'd been caught and sentenced to serve four consecutive life-term sentences at Hogwarts Penitentiary. The prison was famous for its warden, Albus Dumbledore, and his no nonsense approach to doling out punishment when it was warranted. Rumor had it that Dumbledore used stockades, hot boxes, and that he let his guards do as they pleased so long as they didn't kill anyone.

James had learned, a few days in, that the warden also had a tendency to turn a blind eye to what happened to certain inmates and prefered to let the inmates dole out the punishments. It was a dog eat dog kind of prison and James was not one of the top dogs. He doubted that he'd ever be, but that didn't bother him.

James was on month six of his sixteen month long sentence for involuntary manslaughter, and already it felt like he'd been there a lifetime. It was, however, a small price to pay for what he'd done.

Lily had tried to stop him from getting behind the wheel of their car that fateful night nearly eight months ago now, but he'd been too drunk to truly understand just how drunk he was and his actions had deprived a family of their seventeen year old son, Bartemius 'Barty' Crouch, Junior.

James would never forgive himself, and didn't feel like sixteen months behind bars was payment enough for the family's loss, no matter the terrible things he'd witnessed or gone through since he'd walked through the heavy gates of the notorious prison. Not even missing his own son's third and fourth birthdays would be enough to make up for what the Crouches had lost - countless birthdays; their son's graduation, which had been mere months away; marriage; grandchildren...

James missed Lily and Harry something fierce, and wondered how he'd ever be able to return to them after doing the things that he'd done in prison to survive, to help his friends survive. He was no longer the same man he'd been when he'd first set foot in prison. He'd never be that man again. He didn't deserve to be him.

"What you offering in trade, pretty boy?" Riddle asked, gaze traveling up and down James' body in a manner that was very suggestive before pausing to regard James' mouth.

James ducked his head and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his orange jumpsuit to hide their shaking. Swallowing, he bit his lip and raised his eyes to meet Riddle's. If he didn't need the drug so bad, he'd walk away, but Sirius had asked him for it, said that if he didn't have a hit soon, he was going to go out of his mind and do something crazy. The last time that had happened, Sirius had ended up in solitary for a solid week. When he'd come out, he'd been thinner and looked like death warmed over. Something in his friend had broken in that week. James wasn't going to let that happen again, not if there was something he could do about it.

"I can blow you if you want," James said, shrugging, licking his lips.

The other inmates, when he'd told them what he was seeking, had said that this is what Riddle liked. They had joked about it being the 'running rate' of special K and other drugs that Riddle somehow kept stocked. Apparently Riddle scored the drugs from the guards (without having to 'put out' himself) and he dealt to the inmates.

James felt sick to his stomach, but squared his shoulders. He could do this. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before - not since he'd set foot in prison - and it wasn't like he was offering up his ass.

Riddle smiled and chuckled. "You should let your boyfriend get his own drugs."

"He's _not_ my boyfriend," James said, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists in his pockets.

Riddle laughed and gripped the back of James' neck tightly. He leaned in to whisper in James' ear, "You sure about that, pretty boy? He's got you putting out to take care of his needs."

"We're just friends," James said, voice weak.

Truth was, some days he didn't know what he and Sirius were to each other anymore. They'd met behind bars (Sirius had already served 4 years of his life sentence for premeditated murder - he'd killed his abusive father and mother) and something had just clicked between them.

They'd formed a fast friendship borne of necessity - James had been fresh meat and Sirius had, for some unfathomable reason, chosen to protect James from the other inmates and the guards. Sirius couldn't protect him from everyone, though. James understood that.

Sirius hadn't used called James his 'bitch' or anything like that, hadn't forced James into anything like some of the others had done. He'd simply offered James protection, and James had offered him the same, such as he could give. They called each other, brother, and protected each other best as they could.

"Sure you are," Riddle said, hand heavy on the back of James' neck as he led him off to an isolated corner of the prison yard. "You just keep telling yourself that while you suck my cock."

James' hands shook when he pulled them out of his pocket as he sunk to his knees. He closed his eyes.

"Keep them open," Riddle commanded, tipping James' chin up with a long, slender finger. There was a crooked smile on the older man's face, one that James knew would be etched forever in his memory as he did what he had to do for Sirius, who lay sick and delirious with fever.

When it was over, James pushed aside Riddle's hand when the man offered to help him up. He ignored the way that Riddle laughed at him, the look of lust and pity in the man's cold, cruel eyes as he handed him the ampule of special K. He pocketed it and turned around, not wanting to see that look any longer than he had to.

"You need any more of that for your boy _friend_ ," Riddle said to James' retreating back, "you can find me in cellblock C, though a mouth like yours shouldn't be wasted on a nobody like Sirius Black. You tire of him, I'll take good care of you. You'll need to find a man named Avery for a needle, unless your boy's already got one. Fair warning, though, he likes to stick his cock into tight places."

James stiffened and closed his eyes against the too bright sunlight that streamed down on him from a cloudless sky. His legs felt like jelly as he walked away.

"Avery's the one with the thick neck. He likes to lift weights," Riddle offered helpfully, calling after James who corrected his path, aiming his feet toward the weights in the center of the yard.

Remembering how devastated Mrs. Crouch had looked - hair disheveled, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, a little wild in her grief - when she'd slapped his face after he'd been sentenced; the words she'd spoken to him, delivered in a tremulous voice - " _It'll never be enough, my baby's dead and it's your fault. -_ gave him the incentive to follow through for her, for Sirius. It was a small price to pay, he reminded himself when Avery handed him the needle, averting his eyes as James pulled on his jumpsuit, buttoning it with fingers that trembled.

"See you soon, Potter," Avery said, patting James on the back as he left. "I heard your boy's got it bad, better get used to being on your knees. See the nurse and she'll hook you up with some condoms. Though I gotta say, I do prefer bareback."

James didn't need to turn around to see Avery's face to know that the man was giving him a look similar to the one Riddle had given him. It was a look that many of the inmates gave him whenever he did something for Sirius, whenever he did something that he hoped would erase the memories he had of Mr. and Mrs. Crouch's grief-stricken faces; the lack of clear memories of the crash itself; the terrible guilt that ate away at his gut every single second he was awake; the nightmares that woke him at night. Still, none of it was enough. It would never be enough. James suspected that he could spend the rest of his life punishing himself and it still wouldn't be enough.

There was something to the saying, 'a life for a life,' James thought as he prepped the needle and searched for a good vein to stick it in. Sirius' arms were riddled with needle marks, and the veins often rolled, but James found one that didn't shy away from the needle, and sighed in relief when Sirius' glazed eyes focused on him for the first time in a good while.

"Thanks, James," he said, clutching at James' hand. "This'll tide me over for awhile."

_Not long enough,_ James thought to himself, but smiled at his friend anyway, hoping that the drug would keep Sirius in good spirits, that he wouldn't need to trade his body until after he could obtain condoms. In the back of his mind he wondered what he'd have to trade for them, but knew that, no matter what it was, he'd do it. For Sirius, for the Crouches, and to ease, for a short time, some of the guilt that weighed heavily on him.

If Sirius was hooked on drugs like special K, James was hooked on pain and humiliation. They saw him through to another day and made sure that he didn't take anything for granted, that he didn't forget the life of the young man that he'd stolen in the prime of life.

Pain and humiliation were what kept James from taking his own life. He knew they'd see him through the remainder of his prison term and dreaded life outside of the prison walls. He knew Lily would never understand, and prayed that Harry would never know this kind of guilt, that he'd never lose his innocence, never know his father's pain.

"I've got your back," James said, patting Sirius' hand, ignoring the way that both of their hands shook - Sirius' from the drugs, his from shame.

The kiss, while unexpected (they'd never kissed before) - Sirius, eyes glistening from the drugs, surging upward to capture James' lips - was not wholly unwelcome, nor was what came afterward. If he was being completely honest with himself, James could admit that this is what they'd been building up to since the beginning, what Sirius had befriended him for since day one. That Sirius had picked him, out of everyone else who'd been new that day, to groom for a time such as this, for everything that he'd done these past six months for Sirius.

James hid his tears in the sleeve of his jumpsuit and begged silent forgiveness of Lily and Harry because what he'd done with Sirius had felt both terrible and wonderful all at once. And he knew that they'd do it again, find solace in each other's willing bodies, and that, god help him, he'd like it. It hadn't feel like humiliation. It hadn't caused him pain or eased the ever present guilt any. With Sirius, it had felt good and right. It had felt safe.

"Sleep," Sirius said, hand cupping the back of James' head.

Sirius was lucid for the time being. It wouldn't last (it never did) but while it did, James would take advantage of it and sleep, knowing that Sirius would wake him from the nightmares when they came and keep others from molesting him while he slept. A few hours of sleep would do him good. He'd need all the rest he could get to take care of Sirius and survive the next ten months of prison having his friend's back.

 


End file.
